Night Terrors and Sweet Dreams
by Stujet9rainshine
Summary: Peter Parker is a sophomore at ESU. He's barely 19 years old and should be having the time of his life, but he was Peter Parker. He has the infamous Parker family luck and mixing that with the fact that he was a super hero. Things never seem to work out all that well. Well it was always like that until a Deadpool had a hit on him. Then things started to go every direction but down.
1. Chapter 1: He Stole My ID

**Edited Version!**

When Peter blinked open his eyes, the first thing he noticed was pitch blackness. He blinked slowly hoping to be able to make something out in the darkness. Nothing seemed forthcoming. Then sound slowly started to surround him. Peter strained his ears for a second hoping to make sense of the newfound mumbling. Within moments the sounds began to increase in volume. When Peter finally was able to make the sound out, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. It was laughing. Terrible, hysterical laughing. Hoping to find the source, he looked around in vain.

When Peter finally looked down, he was able to make something out in the blackness. He was standing in blood deep enough to reach his ankles. Then the light started to illuminate the surroundings. His clothing was caked with blood all the way up to his knees. He gasped as he stepped back trying desperately trying to get away. In his surprise, he slipped and landed with a splash. He pulled his hands to his chest in horror as they were stained red. The laughing had continued to grow louder. Peter desperately wanted to cover his ears, but the blood kept his hands near his chest. When he felt like he just couldn't handle it anymore, the laughing stopped. He blinked as he stood up slowly, hands still held close. The blood around him was splashing, soft like the ocean waves on the beach.

"PETER!" A broken voice pierced the deafening silence. Suddenly the room exploded into light. Peter slammed his eyes shut. When he gained the courage, he opened his eyes to a stained and vandalized concrete wall. A jail cell. Peter knew this place. "Peter?" The voice repeated, and he quickly turned around. Harry Osborn stood before him wearing a straightjacket, "There you are! You fucker! You did this to me!" Peter stood frozen as their eyes locked. Harry's eyes were wide and unfocused. They stood like that for what felt like hours. When the tension was just about too much, Harry started laughing again. Peter felt captivated as he watched Harry's head roll forward with his laughter. Peter felt he had to reach for him, hoping desperately to help him. As soon as his hand made contact with the canvas of the restraints, blood began to pour from Harry's ears, nose, and mouth. The laughing became wet in sound and Harry choked but kept on laughing. Peter pulled his hand back, covering his mouth with sheer terror. Copper burned his nose from both the blood now on his face and Harry's. Peter felt a gag catch in his throat.

"All your fault… All your fault." Harry chanted as the blood poured from his face. His voice wet and hollow. Peter continued to feel as if he needed to puke, but he decided to turn tail and run. The chanting was soon drowned out by the splashing beneath Peter's feet and the rushing in his ears.

Peter ran for what felt like forever. His lungs were burning, and he was cold from the sweat and blood that caked his body. When he finally stopped running, he stood there heaving looking down at the still bloody floor. His heart was beating out of rhythm and going way too fast.

"Peter? Is that you? Are you okay?" said a soft sing-song voice. Peter looked up to see Gwen looking down at him, her eyes wide with concern. The blood stopped squishing beneath his shoes as he walked towards her. Captivated. He was mesmerized. She was just as beautiful as the last time he had seen her.

"Gwen, It's me. I'm okay and am I glad to see you," Peter reached out to grab Gwen's tiny wrists. She looked at him lovingly. He felt his heart sing, and he couldn't help but smile back. He felt the urge to touch her. He needed to assure himself she was there with him. So he reached out to stroke her cheek, but when he did, he heard a deafening snap. Her eyes widened in horror, and she let out a wet gasp. Then she started to go limp falling forward. Then blood began to drip down her plush lips, staining her perfection. It all seemed to happen in slow motion as the color left her face and her eyes glazed over.

"Gwen! Gwen! No!" Peter fumbled around trying to save her, but she just kept crumbling like the broken carcass she was. The blood covered the floor again. "Gwen, please no..." Peter had tears rolling down his face as he babbled to her, wiping the blood from her mouth. Though the more he wiped, the more blood seemed to come. He heard someone snort and his whole body jerked. Peter looked over his shoulder to see Uncle Ben glaring at him with his arms crossed.

"You never were responsible. You were always getting yourself into trouble needlessly and now look what you did. Dragging so many people down with you," Peter couldn't believe what his Uncle Ben had just said. He stayed still for several seconds horrified. Then he gently laid Gwen's body down and walked towards his enraged uncle. Everything Peter did was to honor his uncle, and these harsh words hurt.

"Uncle Ben, please. I didn't mean to. I try so hard," Peter sobbed. He tried to wipe the tears away, but he just smeared blood onto his face. The combination of copper and salt was disgusting.

"Not hard enough apparently," Uncle Ben retorted weakly as a blood stain formed on the front of his white shirt. The horror of his death being relived.

"NO!" Peter screamed as the black world started falling in around him. Harry's gurgling voice once again entering his ears with, 'your fault, all your fault' over and over again.

"Peter. Peter! Goddamnit! Wake up!" Peter jerked straight up panting and covered in sweat. He was back in his dorm room. His roommate, Oliver, was standing next to Peter's bed. Peter still felt the panic crawling in his stomach. Oh God, was he going to puke? He flinched when Oliver reached for him. "Fuck, you need to chill. You're okay. You're not wherever you went to this time." Peter took several deep breaths, and he was finally able to calm down.

"Damn," Peter sighed as he dragged his hand down his face, "Sorry, Oliver. I didn't mean to wake you up." Oliver shrugged.

"Hey, it's fine," Oliver walked away heading towards his dresser, "Today you woke me up only slightly before my alarm. Like by twenty minutes. It's just extra time to get ready." Peter's shoulders slumped, these night terrors needed to stop.

"It's still nice of you to wake me up. God, they're getting worse," Peter mumbled as he started to get up. School, he needed to focus on school.

"You're welcome," Oliver shrugged throwing his clothes over his shoulder, "I can tell about them getting worse, You were legit screaming this time." Peter flinched as he headed towards his dresser. Oliver just smirked at him. Peter rolled his eyes, and he thought about how lucky he was to have Ollie as a roommate. Peter just hoped he didn't end up in his nightmares too. Just like Harry had.

"You ready?" Peter asked.

"Sure am, Pete." They headed off the dorm bathrooms to get ready for another day at ESU.

Peter Parker was a sophomore majoring in Biophysics at Empire State University. He was barely 19 years old, and he should be having the time of his life, but he was Peter Parker. He had the infamous Parker family luck. Putting that already inherent suckiness onto the fact that he had superpowers. Things never seemed to work out well. Like this morning for intense, he was sprinting to his first class. He had been walking through the back part of campus, happily ahead of schedule. Then he was jumped. The guys weren't students. They looked like thugs. Peter didn't have any money on him so when they ran off with his wallet it wasn't much of a loss. Well, except for his student ID and meal card, but he could get another after his 9 am class. He walked through the door to that very class at 8:58 am.

"Damn, Parker. Cutting it kinda close again, are we?" said the girl who sits behind him, Wanda was her name.

"Had a rough morning," Peter muttered as he readied his books.

"Do you ever have a good morning?" She asked exasperatedly.

"Sometimes." He shrugged as the professor started class.

After that class, he went to the student services and reported the mugging. After giving all the details, he got a new student ID and meal card. Thankfully with minimal fuss.

Things were looking up as his lunchtime rolled around. Peter had agreed through text message to meet Oliver at the dining hall. It was going to be nice to sit down and eat. He walked up to the outdoor tables and seen Oliver typing away on his computer.

"Hey, Ollie," Peter said as walked up to the table putting his stuff down.

"Hey, Pete. Ready to go get some food?" Oliver said as he closed his laptop.

"Definitely." They walked into the hall and swiped their cards, Peter proudly scanning his brand new one. Peter was feeling breakfast for lunch today, which was nice since there was a full-service breakfast bar and pancakes are fantastic. Oliver got a thing of soup and a salad.

"You and your damn pancakes. You eat those like ten times a week," Oliver said as he noted Peter's plate as they headed back out to their table.

"What? They remind me of home. Plus, they are delicious. And you're eating soup. You're always irresponsible when you eat soup," Peter stated as he raised a sarcastic eyebrow. He felt like all Oliver did was complain, but hey he adored his best friend.

"How am I irresponsible?" Oliver said with a smile just as sarcastic. His soup started to simmer, which answered his question. Oliver and any liquid was an irresponsible combination. He always felt obligated to make all liquids the perfect temperature. Peter rolled his eyes and started shoveling his pancakes into his mouth. The soup suddenly stopped steaming as Oliver began to eat. Peter's point was proven.

Oliver was a mutant. It didn't take long for Peter to find that out. They have only been roommates for a couple of months, but it took only three weeks for the truth to come out. Peter figured out by accident. He was supposed to be in class, but he had been out as Spiderman instead. He had decided instead of rudely walking into a class that was half over he just went to his dorm to have a snack instead. Peter walked in to see Oliver frozen in place with a dark purple liquid floating around him.

"What the heck?" Peter said as he hung his jacket up. He almost had to force himself to sound surprised because he'd already met so many mutants. Oliver stared at Peter and swallowed nervously. He looked at the now quivering liquid and back to Peter.

"It was going to stain," was all Oliver said.

"Grape juice tends to do that to carpet," Peter shrugged.

"You don't seem very upset?" Oliver asked timidly, as he pulled the liquid slowly back into the glass.

"No? Accidents happen. Plus, it's not like it's my carpet either," Peter said as he went to go sit at his desk. Oliver just stared for a second before he got up and dumped the juice down the sink.

"I actually meant about my... abilities," Oliver slowly said as if he was testing out his words.

"I mean I would never have pegged you as a mutant, but I mean it's not the end of the world or anything," Peter stated, and it was valid mutants and superhumans were everywhere, and unlike him, most of them didn't want to be heroes or even villains.

"Never would have guessed I'd be telling you about it," Oliver raised an eyebrow, and his tone changed, "Why are you so calm about it?" Peter sighed internally and decided he was going to out himself eventually anyway.

"Well, maybe I understand," Peter got up from his chair and walked up to Oliver, "Brace yourself." Oliver's eyes widened as Peter reached for him and picked him up with one hand and lifted him above his head. "I'm a human mutate." Oliver protested, and Peter put him down.

"Holy shit!" Oliver gasped, and Peter couldn't help but chuckle, "That's a bomb ass power!"

Peter was pulled out of his daydream suddenly as he was poked in the forehead. He jumped straight up and let out an undignified squeak, and his face started burning. "Damn, Peter. Where do you go to?"

"I was just thinking about that day with the grape juice."

"That caused you to go complete space face?" Oliver rolled his eyes and sighed, "What I was saying was that shitty paper you work for was running a story about Spiderman, but the pictures didn't look like him. The costume didn't have any blue, and there was too much black." That caught Peter's attention as he stopped his fork halfway. He lowered it and frowned. That sounded like Deadpool. It really pissed Peter off that everyone confused the two spandex costumes. The outfits were pretty different, not to mention that Deadpool was at least twice Spiderman's size.

"Everyone there is some sort of idiot anyway. Do you have the paper on you?" Peter drew out rubbing his left temple.

"Yeah," Oliver started to dig in his saddle bag. At that very second, Peter's spider-sense went crazy. He and Oliver were in real danger. Without thinking, he jumped across the table taking Oliver with him. They both ended up on the ground as a red and black katana sliced Peter's vacated chair in half. Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.

"What the fuck?!" Oliver shrieked, and several students joined in, and everything erupted into chaos. Peter was terrified. Deadpool showing up only meant a couple of things and none of them were pleasant. Peter looked up just in time to see Deadpool land on the table crushing nearly everything in his path, including Peter's pancakes. Deadpool looked displeased, even though his mask as he glared in Peter and Oliver's direction. There were several seconds of thick tension as Peter and Deadpool locked eyes. The chaotic noise in the background fading until all Peter could hear was his heartbeat and shallow breaths. Then that intense moment was broken by Deadpool squealing. Peter flinched.

"Aww! You're so fricken cute! SO much cuter than your picture!" Deadpool gushed as he flung one of his legs up in an adolescent girl motion. He pulled the katana out of the ground as he hopped off the table. Peter broke out into a cold sweat, and all the liquid within a ten-foot radius started to boil. Oliver looked like was going to faint. "I mean, like, Damn. Who would want such a cute baby face like you un-alived? Well, I know that answer, BUT whatever!" Peter felt his anxiety rise to dangerous levels. Deadpool had a hit on him. Oh fuck. What did he know? Did someone find out the truth? What did Deadpool know?

Deadpool smiled as he pulled out Peter's old student ID. Peter felt like he was going to throw up or pass out or both. "I mean I knew you were a cutie, but fuck you look twenty times sexier in person!" Peter and Oliver both screamed as Deadpool pulled out a matching pair of pistols. Today was supposed to be an easy day! Now it was either die or out themselves. Because they definitely didn't check the optional question on their admission applications asking them if they were "Advanced Persons/Mutants." Which Peter thought was a cool idea at the time, though most likely ineffective.

It was Oliver who made up his mind first as he flung his right hand spraying his boiling soup all over Deadpool. Then he squeezed his hand causing copious amounts of hissing and steam to come off Deadpool. Deadpool hissed right back. His face focused back into a sharp glare. Thanks, Oliver.

"You got some nerve!" The sound of guns being cocked echoed in Peter's ears. The second Deadpool fired Peter grabbed Oliver, and they rolled out of the way of the incoming bullets. Peter was so unsure; this was a situation he had nightmares about. He was maskless in a public space and in physical danger. There was only so much Peter Parker could do. He couldn't fight like Spiderman, but he couldn't let anything bad happen either.

Then Deadpool zoned out for a second, so Peter slowly stood up and started walking backward, forcing Oliver back with him. "I don't know. He seems to know what's going to happen… Well, it would make the hit on him make more sense… Take him alive?… Yeah… I like that idea…" Deadpool said to what Peter had always hoped was a telephone, but he knew better than that. This wasn't his first encounter with Deadpool; they had worked together before several times. Then again that was with Spiderman, not Peter Parker. Deadpool smiled and put his guns up. Peter just kept walking backward. This was not going to end well.

"W-what do y-you want?" Oliver stuttered. Peter flinched. Goddamnit, Ollie!

"I want your love! I want your revenge!" Deadpool sang at the top of his lungs. Then the katanas replaced the pistols in his hands, "No. Actually, I want your friend here. Preferably without the revenge." Deadpool gestured towards Peter with a katana. He was starting to walk towards them casually swinging the swords. "You see. Mister Peter Parker has a hit on him to be filled by yours truly but look at the bright side it is a dead or alive hit. So, I'm taking him alive, probably, depending on how the next few minutes go." Oliver glanced at Peter and didn't say any more. Oliver often asked Peter about his frequent absences. Peter always chalked it up to work, but Oliver knew he was gone too much for how much he made. Peter just hoped Oliver didn't think he was a murderer or something. Honestly, it would be a fair conclusion since Deadpool was hired to kill him.

Deadpool smiled as he readied his swords. They were going to die if Peter didn't act now. Peter absolutely did not want that to happen. He wasn't taking anyone else down with him. Not again, never again. Deadpool took a step forward, and that was all Peter could risk. He didn't really care what happened to him he just didn't want to take Oliver down with him.

"WAIT!" Peter screamed throwing his hands upward. Deadpool halted his approach. "I'll go willingly just don't hurt anyone else here!" Deadpool smiled and sheathed his swords. Though that didn't calm down Peter in the slightest. He knew what Deadpool could do with his bare hands.

"Sounds great! Come on then! Woo! This means we can be friends!… Doubter… How bad do you think I am at my job?… Well, then," Peter had carefully walked towards Deadpool. Leaving Oliver frozen and wide-eyed. He was standing right in front of him when his spider-sense went crazy. It confused Peter he didn't know what was going to happen, but he had a feeling. He wasn't terribly surprised when Deadpool's fist connected with the side of his face. His vision blurred out and he heard muddled noises as his world faded into black.


	2. Chapter 2: What The Fuck Just Happened?

**EDITED VERSION!**

All of the sudden pain erupted in Peter's face. A white flash clouded his vision, and then after the fog of pain went away, he opened his eyes to a speckled linoleum floor. Midtown. He blinked a couple of times before he truly came to his senses. He looked up, still sort of in a daze, and noticed the source of his pain. Flash. Flash Thompson was standing in front of him in a follow-through of a right hook. There were a couple of other dudes behind Flash. All of their faces twisted up in scorn. Peter blinked and felt a familiar warmth running down his face. He moved his hand up and felt thick, warm liquid coming from his nose. He looked at the blood on his hand and couldn't believe it was his blood and not Flash's or one of his goons. He was overwhelmed with the urge to make them bleed. A bloodlust he'd felt only a handful of times before. He vision was tinged red, and he started to shake.

"Hey Parker, what's that look for? You know you can't do anything." Mocked Flash and the rest burst out laughing as if they were trained dogs. Then Flash lowered his fist leaving himself completely open. Peter smiled, and he tasted the blood as it trickled into his now open mouth. He knew he had a wild look in his eyes because Peter noticed a spark of fear cross Flash's eyes. Peter basked in that fear; it was so nice to be on the other end of that look. He knew he could hurt them, kill them if he wanted to, but he always chose not to. Peter started laughing. Why didn't he hurt them? They hurt him!

"That's where you're wrong. I can hurt you. I am just morally obligated not to. Responsibility and all that," Peter said as he shrugged. His nose fucking hurt. Maybe it was broken? The boys chuckled, they didn't believe him.

"Why do you think we do what we do? Because we can! Fuck responsibility! But you, you can only dream to be able to do what we do," One of the boys yelled out. Oh, they were so wrong. Why didn't hey stop while they were ahead? He had power. He could do anything he wanted to. He just had to get rid of the responsibility, and he could make the other boys bleed.

"You guys have no idea what I'm capable of, do you?" Peter asked as he took a step forward. He was going to kick these pricks asses, and he was going to enjoy it. He took another step forward and then raised his hands up ready to fight. This was it. He was going to release years worth of anger on his tormentors.

"Oh! You got some nerve, Puny Parker! Bring it on!" Flash yelled, but with the slightest waver. Then Peter's fist made contact with his face. Peter marveled at the sound of Flash's nose crunching. The power was coursing through his veins. Flash fell to the floor. Peter heard a gasp.

"Who's next?" Peter mocked as he charged the group. His fist connected with next boy and next second he kicked the other boy. He was mercilessly beating up the other teenage boys. They didn't even have time to defend themselves, but Peter didn't care. They never had, why should he?

Blood was everywhere, but it was mainly caked to Peter. Blood from people he was attacking. Peter couldn't tell where the raged ended and he began. He had become them, or something much worse. One of the boys he tried to run. Peter caught him with a web, and when he was in his clutches. Peter couldn't think anymore. Then he proceeded to rip out the other's throat. Then as the body and the bloody mass dropped to the ground, Peter started laughing hysterically. The hollow sound echo around the walls. Just like the walls of Harry's cell.

"NO!" Peter screamed out, and his eyes shot open. Panic set in quickly. Then that panic only doubled as he realized he didn't know where he was and that he was tied to a fucking chair. Peter pulled against his restraints, but he couldn't break them. He quickly realized that had a to be metal of sort. Then he really started to lose it, "Oh, no! Where? Oh, God!" Peter started to hyperventilate as he continued to struggle against his restraints. His vision waved, fuck, he was a having a panic attack.

"Calm down. You're okay," came the voice of Deadpool, but Peter barely heard him. The blood rushing in the head was too loud. It took a few minutes at least for him to calm down. Then when he did, he was able to focus on the man in red and black spandex. Then everything came rushing back to Peter. He had given himself up to save Oliver and the rest of campus. Oh. Peter finally stopped struggling, and his post-panic attack headache started to pound in the side of his head. He hissed out in pain, and he gave up and rolled his head up and to the left. He finally noticed that Deadpool was fiddling with a knife. "You have night terrors?" Deadpool asked casually.

"Well, they're not exactly sweet dreams," Peter snapped. Deadpool paused in his fidgeting and thunk the knife was stuck in the table. Peter's eye shot open as Deadpool chuckled.

"You're a sarcastic shit. You know that?" Deadpool said. Peter finally started to worry about his well-being, but at the same time, he didn't. He kind of didn't do that anymore. "I know supervillains who don't even have the nerve to speak to me like that. And here you are some random college kid at my mercy, and you're giving me attitude, while I have a knife in my hand. Wow!" Deadpool grinned as he jumped off of the table.

"Well, now that you mention it. That was kinda stupid now, isn't it? But, hey, its whatever!" Peter shrugged and said that with just as much barb on his tongue as before. Deadpool's white eyes narrowed as he pulled the knife out of the table and walked over to Peter. Peter couldn't hide the widening of his eyes. Fuck.

"First things first you don't know if I'm going to kill you. Because, honestly, you're a fascinating person, Peter Benjamin Parker," Deadpool said in a hushed tone. Peter's mouth parted as Deadpool got very close, "You have a hit on you from very high up, and you're only a 19-year-old student at ESU majoring in Biophysics, and minoring in photography and you work for The Daily Bugle taking pictures of superheroes. Why would someone want you dead? Why would that be?" Peter's throat was dry and when he didn't talk Deadpool put the knife to his throat. The look in his eyes was menacing. "Talk." Peter was distracted by the intense buzzing if his spider-sense at this point, which meant Deadpool really intended to hurt him. All the times they've had team-ups Peter has never got this feeling from Deadpool before, and Peter did not like it.

"Well… I, uh, I really d-don't know…" Peter managed to stutter. He felt the knife bob as he swallowed past the dryness. He wasn't even trying to play the innocent 'you've got the wrong guy' act, but I was working out that way. He was genuinely afraid.

"Lying isn't going to do you any good is it, now?" Deadpool said as the knife pierced Peter's skin. A burning and stinging sensation overwhelmed Peter as tears threatened to fall from his eyes. "Not so tough now, are we?" He wanted his mask to hide behind. He didn't want to deal with this as Peter.

"I really… really d-don't kn-know," Peter had a terrible feeling someone had figured out the whole Peter Parker equals Spiderman, but why would they get Deadpool for that. Then an idea hit Peter. It may not have been his best idea, but hey its what he had, "Well I-I am a photographer may-maybe I took a picture of the wrong guy. I have had some shots with villains in them before." Deadpool laughed.

"There's more to it than that, isn't there?" Deadpool pressed. Then the knife cut deeper. That was it the tears started to flow. Peter knew he looked pathetic, but fear this raw was something Peter couldn't deal with maskless. He had a lot of feelings because he mostly liked Deadpool. Things were so complicated with his secret identity. Deadpool paused and pulled the knife back so that it stopped cutting. Peter let out a sigh of relief, but it came out as a choked sob. "Damn. I can't do it," Deadpool said to himself, and he got up and threw the knife so that it was stuck in a nearby wall.

Peter tried to regain his composure, but he was either going to die or out himself as Spiderman and to Deadpool of all people! He shouldn't have to deal with that terrible scenario twice in one day. So he just gave up and let himself cry. He didn't do that enough anyway, with the constant fighting as Spiderman, struggling in school, having the night terrors, and now this. He decided to let himself indulge this one time. Hell, it might be his last. He was looking down at his lap, the warm tears rolling down his face. It actually made him feel better to cry. It reminded him that he was, mostly, human. Peter could hear Deadpool muttering to himself, but he didn't care enough to listen to him. Then as he continued to cry, he became infuriated. He was a good person, and all he did was sacrifice himself for others, and all he got in return was a giant shit storm.

"I'm not going to kill you," Deadpool said suddenly, and Peter let out a snort.

"Why should I believe you? You kill people for a living for fuck's sake, and here I am tied up, and my throat is bleeding. Why should I believe you won't kill me?!" Peter screamed out. He'd had enough bullshit. All this was going to get him in the end anyway. Like if he lived and escaped he was going to have more night terrors, and his PTSD was just going to get worse. If he died, it would all go away!

"I'm actually going to let you go and not kill you," Deadpool said his hand to his chest. Peter narrowed his eyes causing the tears to spill over even faster.

"And why are you going to do that? There is literally no reason for you to keep me alive," Peter spat his voice wavering. It sounded hollow even to his own ears. It made him sound suicidal. Well, maybe he was, but those were demons he didn't normally have to face. Except for those times as Spiderman when he thinks about not sending out that next web. His mental stumble was interrupted by Deadpool's raspy voice.

"That's true. It absolutely is. Expect for the fact that you sound suicidal. And no matter how bad people think I am I will not aid in a suicide. I've actually talked a couple of people out of it before… Anyhoo! I find you very interesting, and you're too young just to shoot or send you over to your hit. Who knows what they would do to you!? So I'm going to help you deal with whatever is making you suicidal enough to mouth off to the Merc with a Mouth." Deadpool said then grabbed a chair and swung it around and sat down in it backward. He looked sincere, well from what Peter could tell through his mask. Deadpool then rested his face into his hand obviously waiting for Peter to speak.

"I'm not suicidal," was all Peter managed, Deadpool raised an eyebrow.

"And I'm not the Merc with a Mouth," Deadpool sighed, "If you weren't suicidal you'd tell me you were because I said 'I refuse to aid in a suicide.' Telling me your not makes me more likely to kill you." Peter looked down, knowing Deadpool was right. Damn, he was smart. All the times they had seen and worked together when he was Spiderman, he'd never seen him like this. His voice was so soft and caring.

"So what if I've had bouts of being suicidal. Shit like being kidnapped by Deadpool happens to me too often. Try being me for a day," Peter muttered. He really didn't want to have this talk and if he did he'd be having it with a professor at ESU, not Deadpool. But Deadpool was listening, and Peter wasn't going anywhere. So why the hell not? Deadpool leaned forward and narrowed his eyes.

"Really? That's interesting." Deadpool sounded like a soft-spoken therapist. Peter was thinking about how to answer, but he didn't have to. A look of confusion passed over Deadpool's face, "What?" Deadpool reached forward and grabbed Peter's chin and forced him to look up. Peter flinched, but it it was more out of the idea of being touched than fear of being hurt. Deadpool was looking at the cut on his neck. "It's healed." Oh fuck, his healing factor had kicked in, and the cut was gone. "What's up with that?"

"Uh… Umm?" Peter panicked. Fuck! Guess he really didn't have a choice about being outed as a mutate. "Would you believe me if I said magic?" Peter scoffed at his own stupidity.

"You have a healing factor," Deadpool stated simply completely ignoring what Peter said. He dropped Peter's face and jumped up. "That makes everything make sense now!" Deadpool grumbled loudly, and he threw the chair causing it to shatter against the wall. Peter blanched and wondered what the fuck was going on.

"Care elaborating on that?" Peter said his head tilted to the side as he watched Deadpool pace in aggravation.

"The more I learn about you; The more I think I took a bad hit." Deadpool paused in his rant shot forward and grabbed Peter's knees and leaned in close, "You are a mutant right?" Peter's face was inches away from Deadpool's and sweat formed on the back of his neck, that sounded like a truth worth going with.

"Yeah. I am." Peter sighed, this was a story he could run with. Deadpool jumped up and spun around.

"That great! I'd like to formally apologize for this misunderstanding. I'm sorry," Deadpool said as he reached down to Peter's tied down wrists, "Now promise me you won't run because your life is in serious danger, and not from me… Anymore… Um? No…Whatever. God, I really am sorry. I HATE it when I take a bad hit." Peter thought about it for a moment a realized it was his best bet and Deadpool sounded absolutely pissed about the reality of the situation. But that didn't stop Peter's head from spinning. Peter was pretty sure the hit was because someone had figured out the Spiderman thing. But in all honesty, the ideas were very similar.

"I promise," Peter said, and his restraints were released, he then rubbed at his now free wrists. "God, Deadpool you owe me something at least. Shit." Deadpool smiled and started working on the ankle restraints. Deadpool chuckled and looked up his eyes wide. "I missed the rest of my classes and Oliver is going to be freaking out." Peter rambled nervously. He really wasn't sure how else to deal with the emotional whiplash.

"How about I treat you to dinner? Plus, call me Wade," Deadpool, no, Wade said. Peter smiled despite himself. He already knew Deadpool's name, but it was different being invited to call him by it. The reality of that hit him, and he snorted despite himself. He didn't actually expect Wade to take him up on the offer. Peter simply didn't respond for several seconds. Then wade started to ooze awkward. Which prompted Peter to throw his hands out in surrender.

"Wait. That's a great idea and all, but people will wonder why I'm out having food with the mercenary who just kidnapped me," Peter chuckled as he could finally stand up. His body yelled out in protest, and the pins and needles kicked in. Peter let out a gasp. Wade stood up and helped him gain his balance.

"I don't have to go out as Deadpool. I can go as Wade. You'd have to accept the fact I'm one interesting looking son-of-a-bitch…. Shut up… I didn't ask you. Well?" Peter raised an eyebrow, he didn't know what Wade looked like, he knew about the scars and cancer, but that was about it. He'd never seen more than Wade's jaw, mouth, and nose. Wade must have felt horrible about this if he was this willing to take off his mask. Then again, Wade could easily bet he would never see Peter again after this.

"I'll take you up on that offer." Peter shrugged and smiled sheepishly.

"Woo!" Wade jumped up and down like a school girl. Peter smiled at the spectacle. "Okay give me a minute to get ready. Uh, I'll get you a rag for your neck. I'm still sorry about this," Wade looked awkward. This was just another normal Tuesday.

"It's fine. I've been through worse," Peter replied. Wade smiled until he disappeared into a hallway to the left. Peter stretched out his legs and walked around for a brief moment until Wade whistled and Peter caught a packaged alcohol wipe. Peter used his phone's camera to make sure he got all the blood, there wasn't much anyway. Peter waited around awkwardly and wondering why he was still here, but then again, moral obligation and all.

"I'm back and ready to go," Wade announced happily. Peter turned around to see Wade wearing a big hoodie pulled up over a Spiderman cap and a pair of blue jeans. Huh. That was unexpected

"Looks good. Compliments my flannel," Peter smiled, he knew how self-conscious Deadpool was. Now that he was Wade Peter guessed it was that much worse. He must feel absolutely awful about the hit, or he's trying to scare Peter away, or both. Hell if he knew. "Ready to go somewhere?" Wade acted like a virgin girl showing off her naked body as he took a step forward. Peter couldn't help but laugh. Wade blanched. Peter immediately bit his tongue.

"I must be disgusting," Wade bit out.

"No, no, no. There's nothing wrong with you. Honestly. I can't even see your face, which is a shame. I was laughing at the fact that you're acting like a virgin. Well, and the fact that I'm letting you take me out to eat as a way to for you to say 'Sorry, for trying to kill you.'… I really have seen too much shit." Peter let that all spill from his mouth in a terrible case of word vomit. There was a pause, and everything became awkward, at least for Peter. Then Wade dissipated the uncomfortable air by laughing a hearty laugh. Peter could see shining white teeth through the darkness of the hoodie and cap combo. God, this was still kind of crazy.

"That is the most honest thing I have ever heard. 'I've seen some shit!' Oh my God," Wade said between his dreadful laughing fit, "Now I have to treat you really well now, don't I?" Wade walked towards Peter and reached out and grabbed his elbow. At that very moment, Peter looked up, and all he saw were bright crystal blue eyes. Peter was mesmerized, so much so that all the open scars and sores didn't seem to matter. Wade cleared his throat and looked forward. They started to walk towards to door.

"I don't see what you're worried about. You have the most amazing eyes I've ever seen, and like I've said before 'I've seen some shit,'" Wade paused in his walking causing Peter to walk straight into his back. He started to stumble hopelessly. Wade quickly caught him and muttered his apologies under his breath. Peter looked back at Wade's face and seen that he was blushing profusely. Peter's heart skipped a beat, and he was overwhelmed with sensation. Maybe Peter's face was a little red, too. What had Peter gotten himself into?

The rest of the way to the undisclosed food location, which Wade refused to name, was quiet and uneventful. Peter was pretty sure it was going to be Mexican food of some sort, that was a Deadpool thing. As it turned out he was correct, they arrived at a nice sit down Mexican place. This is not what he expected at all. He was honestly thought Wade was just gonna take him to a taco truck. Peter was wowed by it all, and he was still shell-shocked by the situation. They got a nice table out if the way, by Wade's request. This was crazy. Why was Peter doing this again? He almost bolted, but then Wade start to babble excitedly, and Peter suddenly didn't have the heart to do it. Wade was a nice guy, and he was genuinely trying to make up for his mistake. He even pulled out Peter's chair for him.

"I would tell you the best drinks here, but you can't drink, but don't worry! I'll, as a matter of fact, tell you all about the amazing food," Wade stated as he waved his menu around. Peter chuckled. Wade was a very eccentric person and was almost too much for Peter's meek personality. Almost, he was instead becoming more and more enthralled with this "I don't give a fuck" personality. Wade had proceeded to talk about the best items on the menu for a solid twenty minutes. When he decided he described pretty much everything on the menu Peter went with an enchilada special. When the waiter showed up, he had already brought Wade a drink he hadn't ordered. Which Wade thanked him for. Then Wade rattled off an overtly complicated order and then ordered for Peter.

"You know this is really nice," Peter smiled as he watched the waiter walk away. "I haven't been out to eat all semester," Wade smiled as he lifted his bottle to his mouth. He took a couple of swigs then put it back down.

"Too bad I had to almost kill you for it," Wade said his tone dry.

"At last, it was someone else this time," Peter joked. He had humor heavily lining his tone. Wade laughed, but even Peter could tell it was strained.

"Damn, Peter. You're giving me a run for my money on bad jokes. And I'm the Merc with the Mouth." Peter liked Wade's smile. It was quite brilliant even if it was strained.

"What can I say? I'm still technically a punk-ass teenager, got something to prove with my attitude."

"You look like a punk… with an ass!" That was Wade's cheap response, and for some reason, Peter found it hilarious. Wade quickly joined in the laugh, and both guys were still laughing when their food was brought out. The waiter was giving them a weird look as they were trying to hold in hapless giggles. As soon as he was out of sight, they were both snorting and chuckling hopelessly. At this point, Peter accepted they were laughing to laugh. The laughing finally faded, and Peter could finally focus on the food in front of him. He took a second to let the smell linger, and his stomach rumbled loudly. Wade looked from his food and raised a nonexistent eyebrow, and Peter blushed.

"Sorry I haven't eaten much today, and this smells amazing," Peter said in a rush. He smiled at Wade and then started to shovel the food into his mouth.

After dinner was all said and done Wade did, as a matter of fact, eat 25 chimichangas. Peter still couldn't believe it. 25 chimichangas and a bowl of chips and salsa and a couple of other assorted things. Nope, Peter felt nauseous just thinking about ingesting that much food. They were walking down the road heading back to campus. Wade had insisted on it, saying that Peter was still in danger. Either way, Peter was happy to have the company.

"Hey, baby boy. I have a nosy question for you?" Wade asked interrupting the comfortable silence the two had fallen into. Peter's ears perked at the nicknamed, he'd heard it before, but it felt different somehow.

"And what would that be?" Peter said as he kicked a loose rock on the sidewalk.

"What other powers do you have? I mean a minor healing factor isn't enough for a hit that large," Wade seemed genuinely interested and he didn't seem to be prying. Peter decided what he was going to say. What he always went with when people found out about his powers.

"Promise you won't laugh?" Peter said his tone cheeky.

"Maybe, it all depends on the laughability of the situation," Wade joked, but he seemed a little concerned.

"I have… super strength!" Peter said happily as he confirmed his statement by picking Wade up. Wade let out a completely manly squeak as he was lifted from the ground, which he was quickly returned to. Peter was smirking at the stunned Wade, who was wearing a pleasantly surprised expression.

"That was the last thing I expected. I figured when you said 'don't laugh' I assumed it was going to be something stupid like turning into a fish or some shit like that," Wade shook his head as they continued their walk. Wade looked sheepish and as Peter noticed it was because he was blushing. Huh.

"That would be a shitty superpower. Would that even count as a superpower or a glorified party trick?" Peter said as he walked backward. Wade burst out laughing. They had finally arrived at the campus.

"Damn. That was savage Pete."

"I try," Peter smirked. He noticed they had arrived at their destination, his dorm. "We're here!"

"That's good," Wade paused for a second and then he took a step forward and placed his hand on Peter's shoulder. It was such a tender gesture it made Peter's stomach tighten and his face flush. "You take care of yourself, okay?" Peter nodded because honestly, he couldn't form the words. "I'll be checking up on you. Okay?" Peter nodded again. Wade seemed to come to the same realization Peter had a moment ago and pulled his hand away. "Well, goodnight then."

"Goodnight, Wade." Then he walked away, and Peter headed into his dorm. He managed to make it to his dorm without anyone noticing him. Peter sighed as he dug out his key. He should tell someone he's okay. He will later. He really needs to let Oliver that he's okay first.

"I'm home!" Peter said into the dark room as the door shut behind him.

"THANK GOD! I thought you were actually dead this time! Mierda!" Oliver said as he lept from his bed and ran up to Peter.

"Hey, I'm Spiderman I'm going to be fine no matter what. I was able to convince Deadpool the hit was bad," Oliver looked like he was going to rant for at least ten minutes jumping in and out of Spanish. Peter was not in the mood for that right now, so he nipped that right in the bud, "Hey Ollie. It has been a very long day, and I'm going to bed," Oliver open his mouth again, but Peter raised his hand, "We'll talk in the morning, okay?" Peter said as the reality of his completely insane day sunk in. What the fuck?

"Sure. Anything, Pete. But first thing in the morning we are going to the President's office and letting him know you're okay," Oliver said as he hugged Peter.

"That sounds fair, Goodnight Ollie. Expect nightmares," Peter said as he sat down on his bed. Oliver climbed up to his bunk muttering to himself in Spanish. Peter removed his flannel, then his shirt, and then his pants and laid down in his underwear and as soon as he closed his eyes Wade's blue eyes washed over his mind's eyes. Peter sighed as he realized how fucked he was.


End file.
